I Came to Read, I Stayed to Write
by forthright
Summary: A collection of drabbles and oneshots I've written. Most were created for various LJ contests and challenges. Newest: 'Mangled' A oneshot that revisits the 'Clutter' universe. Sesshoumaru goes to great lengths to right a terrible wrong... sorta.
1. Izayoi's Journal

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim any rights or responsibilities for the characters within this short bit of fiction… though I'm quite fond of the newborn pup who makes his appearance.

**Izayoi's Journal**

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_his newborn fingers,_

_tipped with perfect, tiny claws,_

_curl tightly round mine._

My mind turned to poetry this morning. It has been months since I composed haiku. Perhaps there is hope here for my son and me? Unbelievable, that he is mine to love, touched as he is with strange power. I'm awed by what his presence in my arms means. _Inuyasha._ He is so like his father. Silver and gold. At first, I was frightened, for I could not find his elfin ears. But soft, flopping points quivered atop his head when I cooed over his soft cheeks. Wonder of wonders—ears, pricked up like a puppy's! Now, I sing softly to him while I go about my work, and those little ears swivel and twitch, following my voice attentively.

_finest baby fuzz_

_reflects like silver moonlight_

_on each little ear._

He knows my scent. His father used to compliment me on the way I smelled. Funny, I'd forgotten until the other day. I had brought my little inu up to my shoulder to burp after his feeding, and he buried his nose against my neck with a sigh. I blinked back tears over the memories that surfaced. I cherish each, for they're all I have now. I will never forget Lord Taisho—so ancient and great and powerful and oh, so precious to me.

_wide and innocent,_

_his burnished gaze holds molten_

_gold like his father's. _

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**End Note:** This drabble was entered during the Live Journal iyissekiwa community's contest for the theme "Journal." The intersecting poems really are haiku… poems in which the lines each contain five, seven, and five syllables respectively.


	2. Nobody's Bitch

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim any rights or responsibilities for the characters in this bit of silliness… especially for the boys who are so busy posturing, they've forgotten who they're fighting over. ׃׃wink׃׃

**Nobody's Bitch**

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Kagome stretched up onto her toes, waving furiously at the departing forms of Miroku and Sango. They were bound for Miroku's home, excited to show Mushin that the wind tunnel was gone from the monk's palm. Kirara was soon a distant speck, and Kagome breathed a happy sigh. Turning to rejoin the rest of the group, she found herself with a face full of armor. Two rough, tanned hands clasped hers devotedly. "How's my woman this morning?" inquired Kouga with a roguish flash of fang.

"Oh! Hello, Kouga-kun. Fine, fine," returned Kagome as she tried to tactfully disengage herself from the amorous wolf. "You know, I'd like it if you called me Kagome."

"So," he continued, not skipping a beat, "Are you ready to ditch dog-boy and join my pack?"

"About that…" began the girl, only to be interrupted by an angry shout.

"Oi! Get away from her, ya dumb wolf! She ain't your woman!" Inuyasha stormed up, followed by the rest of their traveling party. They were certainly a mixed group, Kagome mused. Once Naraku was defeated, Kouga had refused to leave. What's more, Sesshoumaru's strange little pack had fallen in step with theirs, adding one aloof taiyoukai, one grumbling kappa, and one energetic youngster to the mix. _It's going to be a long walk home_.

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Inuyasha and Kouga bickered the entire day. It was "She ain't your woman, wolf! Why can't you get that through your head?" and "As if she'd want to be your bitch, dog-breath. You don't have what it takes!" until they stopped for the evening.

As they set up camp, matters escalated. All unsuspecting, Kagome incited a full-scale war. "Boys? Could you find some firewood, please?"

Inuyasha was in front of her in a heartbeat, "Sure, wench. How much you need?"

Kagome groaned irritably. "I have a name you know. And we just need enough for the night."

Kouga appeared at her elbow. "I'll get whatever my woman needs."

She sighed over Kouga's insistent designation. _Is my name that hard to remember?_ "With the two of you working together, it shouldn't take long. And please, call me Kagome."

Inuyasha's smirk took off in one direction while Kouga's cocksure attitude churned off in another. Kagome sat down next to Rin to wait. "Are you going to cook for us again, pretty lady?" asked the youngster.

"Yes Rin-chan. I'll cook enough food for all of us. And I'd like it very much if you would call me Kagome."

Just then Kouga skidded into the campsite, hefting more than enough wood for one evening. "See how well I can take care of my woman's needs?" he preened. Inuyasha's entrance was heralded by another crash of kindling. His load was equally formidable. It seems the two "suitors" were determined to outdo one another. _This is turning into one hell of a dog fight. _

"Your puny strength isn't enough to impress my woman," growled Kouga.

"She ain't your woman. As if a girl like her would follow you around. Find another bitch," snarled Inuyasha.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Please! I can give her everything she needs."

"You don't even know _what_ she needs."

"I do too."

"Oh yeah?"

Faltering briefly, Inuyasha scrambled mentally before brightening. "Dinner."

Kouga narrowed his eyes, considering. "Dinner, huh? Alright. Let's just see who's the better provider."

And with that they were off, leaving a disgruntled Kagome slouched against a tree. "I've got a name," she muttered darkly to herself. What's so hard about my name?" At least there was plenty of fuel for the fire. She arranged kindling and turned to fetch matches from her backpack only to collide with Sesshoumaru's little green retainer.

"Watch what you're doing, insufferable human!" he squawked peevishly before turning the Staff of Two Heads on her neat stack of wood. Flames burst forth, and the campfire was set to crackling. _That's handy._

"My name's Kagome," she groused. "And thanks, Jaken," she added more kindly. _At least he's useful. Wonder if that's why Sesshoumaru keeps him around? Where _is_ Sesshoumaru?_

She scanned the camp but came up empty. "Rin, where did Lord Sesshoumaru go?"

"Rin doesn't know. Can Rin help the pretty lady cook?"

Kagome nodded, "Sure Rin-chan. And I told you before, you can call me Kagome." _Is there something about my name? Maybe it's hard to pronounce? Maybe it's just not memorable?_

Within the hour, the foragers returned. Kouga flourished a string of shining fish. Inuyasha displayed a pair of skinned rabbits. An argument was just starting up over which required greater skill to trap, when Sesshoumaru strolled casually into the camp. Without a word, he threw a sizable boar beside the fire, arching one elegant brow at the wolf and hanyou. Kagome gawped at the taiyoukai. _The testosterone's gone to his head._

Sesshoumaru smoothly asserted his superiority. "You two bicker like pups. The miko would be foolish to choose either one of you."

"What do you…hey! Get your own bitch, you bastard!" stormed Inuyasha.

"Sesshoumaru, you stay away from my woman! I claimed her fair and square," Kouga

Kagome cleared her throat, trying into interrupt the brawl that seemed likely to erupt. "Hey, guys? I've got a name. Guys?"

Ignoring Kagome completely, the taiyoukai continued to posture. "As if this Sesshoumaru would pursue a human. I do not want your miko. I merely decided to show the two of you that this Sesshoumaru is unrivalled."

Kagome was getting angry. It_ looked_ as though these three were fighting over her, but she might as well not be there, for all the attention they paid her. It was just a glorified pissing contest. _If I hear "wench" or "human" on more time._ _So help me!_

"You two back off and leave the wench to me! I saw her first," hollered an irate Inuyasha.

_Oh! Now that just tears it!_ Kagome marched stiff-legged into the middle of the melee. The three stopped talking and pulled back in surprise as they were confronted by one seriously chaffed Kagome. "I. Have. A. Name," she ground out. "It is_ not_ human! It is _not_ miko! It is_ not_ girl!"

Red-faced with rage, she made searing eye contact with each canine. They flinched before her onslaught, averting their eyes. "I am _not_ a wench! I am not _anyone's_ woman! I am nobody's _bitch_!"

Throwing her hands up in the air, she brought her tirade to a shrill climax. "How many times do I have to tell you? My name is Kagome. It's not that hard. Kagome! Ka. Go. Me!"

Silence reigned, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the chirping of crickets. That is, until a small, girlish voice piped up, "Why are you so upset, pretty lady?"

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**End Note:** This oneshot was written in response to the Live Journal community iyficcontest's challenge for Week 74 – Fandom Clichés. Obviously, I decided to play with the ubiquitous Ka-Go-Me, so prevalent in S/K fanfics. It's just a bit of fun. Special thanks must go to Fenikkusuken, who suggested Rin's little _ba-dum-bum-ching_ comment at the end. Wraps it up beautifully! Thanks, Feni Fair!


	3. Aloft

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim any rights or responsibilities for the characters in this drabble… especially for the laconic taiyoukai who never threatens to push up my word count with useless drivel.

**Aloft**

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When the cloud had begun to form beneath them, Kagome had shifted skittishly from foot to foot, unsure what to make of it. Sesshoumaru pushed her into position in front of him, and the ground fell away. As her stomach dropped, Kagome burrowed back against the immovable form behind her. The steadying hand on her shoulder did little to quell her palpable fear. Eyes screwed tightly shut, she tried to keep her voice even. "I don't like heights very much." Trembling transmitted her fear even more effectively than her words. When the taiyoukai's had released her shoulder, Kagome clutched blindly backwards, tangling fingers in fur and silk. Sesshoumaru hadn't abandoned her, though. He'd merely moved to wrap his single arm firmly about her waist, anchoring her more firmly. He pulled Kagome back into his broad chest, where she could feel the rumble of his voice. "Relax."

Wanting to obey, the miko made a concerted effort to release the tension in her taut muscles. Warm breezes buffeted her face, tugging her hair teasing it in all directions. _We can't be moving very fast._ Again, a low voice urged her. "Open your eyes."

Cautiously, she peeped between her lashes. Silver hair fell about her shoulders brushing past her cheeks. She placed both hands on the arm securing her midriff, allowing one finger to brush against the magenta slashes it found there. Gathering courage, she tested her footing, pressing one toe down into the mysterious billow. There was some give, but it held. Reassured, Kagome allowed her eyes to stray beyond the immediate. "Ooooh!"

Sesshoumaru eased them into a more rapid pace, following the lazy bends of a river. Tree-topped hills mounded like mossy stones far below. As the young woman admired the view, the taiyoukai continued to accelerate. Gusts now buffeting Kagome's face, and she found the speed rather exhilarating. They were soaring now. Unable to resist the impulse, Kagome stretched her arms out to either side like wings. She leaned forward, braced against Sesshoumaru's arm, pushing her face into the oncoming wind. _I'm flying!_

Kagome felt a chuckle vibrate through her whole body and glanced up over her shoulder into Sesshoumaru's amused eyes. Her delighted smile seemed to please him. "I did not know you could do this!" she effused. "I've seen that glowing ball thing," she went on, pantomiming wildly with both hands. "And the really big dog thing. But this is something else entirely! How do you do it?"

Sesshoumaru leaned down close to the young woman, placing his face beside hers so he could whisper the secret in Kagome's ear. Warm and teasing, he murmured, "It's magic."

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**End note:** This shameless bit of fluff was written in response to the Live Journal iyficcontest community's drabble challenge for Week 75 – Magic.


	4. Dojo

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities to the character in this drabble… he's entirely too much for this forthright to handle, so I keep a respectful distance!

**Dojo**

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Swish, thrust, stumble.

Turn, slash, grunt.

Feint, extend, falter.

Sesshoumaru glared at the sword in his hand, hefting it briefly to test his balance against its weight. _Unacceptable. _He stood in his personal training hall, stripped to the waist with bared feet on smooth wooden planks. Shoji screens stood open. Moonlight flashed on waiting blade. Breezes pulled at hair, lifting it away from heated skin. Hours of exercise had raised a sheen of sweat. He'd lunged and twisted until hakama rode low. Whorls of magenta curled in sharp relief against pale skin—hips, shoulder blades, wrist.

Charge, sweep, curse.

Twirl, dart, hiss.

Pivot, leap, sway.

He _would_ live this down. Bad enough to have his arm taken—by the hanyou no less. It was a bitter thing, to accept defeat at his brother's hand. But that did not mean he had to accept the limitations of a missing limb. For days he'd driven himself, convincing his body to compensate. Brows knit slightly as he misjudged another arcing slice and had to take a stutter-step. Sesshoumaru huffed. He would _not _add to the disgrace by allowing the loss to affect his skills. Relearn basic movements. Retrain muscle responses. Reclaim mastery. Perfection must not be hindered by imperfection. His was a deadly dance—one quickly regaining its grace. Sure, deft, bold. Gradually, he built speed until the dojo housed a silver whirlwind.

Swoop, ripple, glide.

Flex, weave, launch.

Surge, circle, drive.

Eyes fierce with personal triumph, Sesshoumaru sheathed his sword. _Acceptable. _

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**End note: **This drabble was written in response to the Live Journal iyissekiwa community's contest on the theme, "Acceptance."


	5. Honest Appraisal

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this mere drabble… especially since they made it hard to stay within the word limit. ׃׃eyeroll׃׃

**Honest Appraisal**

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It's always the same, these little battles. You bait me. I spar with you. Taunt. Mock. Clash. Bringing up the past never fails to infuriate. Getting you riled never disappoints. We are well-matched in more ways than one. A resemblance is obvious. Not a true reflection, but the impression is there. The stamp of our heritage—Silver and gold. Like father, yet not. Touched by his greatness—and his weakness.

Blade strikes blade; sparks fly. For a moment you're close, fighting to push back my sword. Eyes lock. Face to face, I see myself reflected in your eyes. Astonishing, the emotions you allow to surface behind the front you maintain. It's almost worth the trouble, just to catch the flash of an unguarded moment in their depths.

What is that, beneath the surface, behind your eyes? Jealousy. Envy of me? Why bother? _You_ are the one who held an enviable place in father's heart. Yet still, you want what is mine. It is a legacy I cannot share, even if I cared to. Grudging admiration is there as well. I am strong and you know it. A compliment forever unspoken.

When I face you, I understand myself. Your eyes show me who I am. What I mean to you. You have no reason to lie, to flatter, to dissemble. Your glare holds an honesty I have found in no other. I've learned to accept what I find reflected there. You are the mirror I trust more than any other. _Brother._

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**End Note:** This drabble was written for the Live Journal iyissekiwa community's contest theme, "Mirror." If it does what I intended it to do, the drabble can be read from either brother's perspective and make sense. ׃׃shrug׃׃ You tell me if it worked!


	6. Skittish

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this humble little drabble… especially for the little lady who's lost her way in the fog.

Originally posted to Live Journal's iyissekiwa community on January 10, 2007.

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**Skittish**

Kagome shivered against the base of a tree, nervously pulling her legs up to her chest. _Do they realize I'm missing yet? Are they looking for me? _The swirling mists gave her the eerie sensation of being both isolated and surrounded. Sounds were muffled, but strangely amplified. A scuffing sound off to her left could have been footfall, or a small animal, or something far more dangerous. A rustle overhead could have been a rescuer, or a tree-borne stalker, or just the wind. She had no way of knowing, blinded by the fog. Kagome resisted the urge to call out for help, wary of drawing the wrong kind of attention. The weaponless young woman cringed, feeling hidden, yet completely exposed. Making herself as small as possible, she huddled miserably—waiting to be found, hoping it would be by friends.

Time lost all point of reference. Disembodied noises made her jump and shrink alternately. Escalating apprehension spiked at the sound of snuffling in the underbrush. Someone, something was coming closer. Dread pooled in the pit of her stomach, and Kagome pulled herself shakily to her feet. The sharp crack of a twig brought her heart into her throat, and she tensed to flee. Then, she heard it, distant at first but coming steadily nearer—a blessedly familiar, rhythmical, musical jingling of metal against metal. _They found me_. Kagome sagged against her tree in relief, then called out in a voice that only trembled a little. "I'm here! Here I am."

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**End Note:** Skittish was first written for Live Journal's iyissekiwa's drabble contest themed "Fog."


	7. Misdirection

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this oneshot… especially for the one who did the only thing he could do, under the circumstances. Deceive. Inveigle. Obfuscate.

**Author's Note:** If you're browsing through, this is a bit of comedy featuring Miroku. He's been up to his usual brand of mischief.

Originally posted on Live Journal on January 14, 2007.

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**Misdirection**

Inuyasha cringed slightly at the tension snapping through the campsite that evening._ What now? _He couldn't think of anything he'd done to upset the girls today, but the frosty glances that were being shot in his general direction made him squirm. _Wait. Not my direction,_ he realized, as Sango passed Miroku his dinner with frigid politeness. Eyeing Kagome, he watched in confusion as she huffed in the monk's direction and put her nose into the air. They were both giving Miroku the cold shoulder. The monk was sitting serenely beside him, apparently unconcerned.

Inuyasha leaned slightly to his side, speaking out of the corner of his mouth. "Houshi? What'd you do?"

The monk turned pious eyes to the hanyou. "Whatever do you mean, Inuyasha?"

Inuyasha nodded to the girls, who flicked occasional glares at Miroku. "Them."

"My intentions may have been misconstrued earlier," the monk offered vaguely.

"What the fuck does that mean," demanded the hanyou in an undertone. "Did you grope Sango again?"

"Not precisely," Miroku said calmly. "I might have done something that could be… misinterpreted."

With a low growl, Inuyasha's hackles went up. "You didn't touch Kagome, did you?"

Heaving a weary sigh, Miroku let his gaze drift up towards the darkening sky, stars just beginning to make their appearances. "No, Inuyasha. I did not mishandle Kagome-sama."

"Well," insisted the hanyou, "they're not upset about nothing. What'd you do?" he repeated.

"Let's just say I was put in an impossible situation and took the only way out I could see," murmured Miroku quietly with a wary glance towards the other side of the campfire.

"Eh?" asked Inuyasha, confused.

"They asked me to choose," the monk said with a suggestive lift of one brow.

Inuyasha's ears flattened, then flicked forward. "What?"

With another look towards the girls, Miroku ran his hand through his hair, tugging at the back uncomfortably. "They took me aside this afternoon and asked me for my unbiased opinion," he explained softly. "They seemed to think that a man of my taste, experience, and discretion would be able to settle a little disagreement."

"What kind of disagreement," asked Inuyasha, leaning closer in his curiosity.

Miroku smirked. "It was a matter of a… personal nature."

Inuyasha just shook his head, black brows furrowed. "Spit it out, houshi."

"Well, it seems that Kagome-sama wouldn't take Sango's word about her appearances," Miroku confided in a low voice with another glance towards the girls. "Women are often self-conscious about their looks, and Sango thought Kagome-sama would benefit from masculine reassurances."

"Reassurances," Inuyasha parroted in disbelief.

"Right. So they asked several… awkward questions."

Inuyasha scooted a little closer to the monk. "Like?"

Miroku shrugged carelessly. "Do I think Kagome-sama is beautiful? Would she be considered attractive by men? Should she change her hairstyle?"

The hanyou's golden eyes grew wide. "That's… _stupid,_" he said with a huff. "Wait. You said they asked you to choose, though. Choose what?"

"Which one had the most appealing… assets."

Inuyasha's brow wrinkled in confusion again. "What kind of… assets," he asked suspiciously.

Miroku held up his cursed hand meaningfully. "The kind with which I am most familiar."

Inuyasha straightened in surprise. "You don't mean…."

"I do," the monk said solemnly.

"So…" replied Inuyasha slowly, "who did you choose?"

Miroku shifted uncomfortably. "Ah. You need to understand that I was in a most delicate position."

"So?" Inuyasha prodded.

"There is no good answer to a question like that," the monk said sadly.

"What do you mean," asked Inuyasha with narrowed eyes.

Miroku laid it out for the hanyou. "If I chose Sango, Kagome-sama's already fragile self-image would be shattered. On the other hand, if I chose Kagome-sama, Sango might get the wrong idea. Either way, someone gets hurt."

Inuyasha's expression cleared and he nudged closer, voice lowered to a whisper. "So, what the fuck did you say, houshi. They're _both_ ticked."

The monk turned solemn violet eyes on the hanyou, who was practically nose to nose with him now. "I did what I had to do."

The hanyou snorted, "A lot of good it did, houshi," he said with a quick peep at the stony-faced girls. "So who'd you choose?"

"You."

Dark brows shot up. "Me," Inuyasha said flatly.

"You," confirmed the monk with a hint of amusement.

Taking a moment or two to process this information, the hanyou toyed with Tetsusaiga's hilt. "So instead of hurting their feelings… you let them think…." Suddenly aware of their proximity, Inuyasha leaned back. "No fucking way," he said with a horrified expression.

"As I said," returned the monk serenely, "I may have said something that could be misinterpreted."

Inuyasha began to scoot stealthily away from the monk, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "You had better've set them straight, houshi," he said with quiet menace.

Miroku watched the hanyou's retreat with interest. "As I informed the ladies, I am most familiar with your physique since we bathe together. I can speak with authority on your assets, as I have seen them firsthand."

Inuyasha's anger warred with his humiliation. "I am going to kill you," he muttered.

The monk went on, unperturbed. "So I told them that if they wished me to make a choice between the two of_ them_, they would have to oblige me with a better viewing. Firsthand knowledge is essential in such matters."

The hanyou's head bobbed up, somewhat relieved by the monk's familiarly lecherous proposition. "Oh. So they don't think we…." Inuyasha waved a hand between the two of them. "It's because you…." He waved a hand towards the girls.

"Most assuredly," nodded the monk.

"Keh," the hanyou grunted in disgust. "You are such an idiot."

"Perhaps," admitted Miroku with a twinkle, "but I didn't have to choose, did I?"

Both males looked back across the campfire, their considering gazes rebuffed by icy daggers. "Better two cold shoulders than one scorned woman," the monk murmured.

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**End Note:** This oneshot was originally written for the "Frost" drabble challenge on Live Journal's iyficcontest community. 979 words.


	8. Who's Kissing Kagome?

**Disclaimer:** I hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this series of drabbles… especially for the lucky young lady who has so many eligible bachelors eager to win her heart.

**Author's Note:** "The Perfect Kiss" Drabble Challenge was issued for Valentine's Day on Live Journal. Each challenge entry was required to be a perfect drabble—exactly 100 words, no more, no less—and the theme was "kiss." I'm unapologetically fond of alternate pairings, so I'm going to subject you to my version of Spin the Bottle. In each drabble, Kagome is being kissed… thoroughly… by someone. The only catch is, I don't tell you who's doing the kissing. Can you guess by the cues and clues in each description, _who's kissing Kagome?_ I don't think you'll find it difficult! ׃׃wink׃׃׃

**Who's Kissing Kagome?**

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**Kiss #1**

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Smiling into her eyes, he stepped closer, amused when Kagome blushed and ducked her head. With a confident hand he brushed his fingertips across her cheek, then slipped them under her chin, urging her to look up at him. His thumb brushed over her lips, feather-light. Moving so his body was flush with hers, he cupped her jaw gently and lowered his lips to kiss one corner of her mouth. Then the tip of her nose. Then the curve of one cheek. A seduction of tickling touches teased her along until he finally covered her eager lips with his own.

**Kiss #2**

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He picked Kagome right up, pulling her hips flush with his and encouraging her to loop her arms around his neck. Eyes bright with unshakeable admiration, he met her uncertain gaze. His first kiss was unstudied—quick, firm, chaste—and left no doubt to his intentions. Wanting his woman to relax and respond, he began running the flat of his hand over her back in long, soothing strokes. With little nips, he dragged his lips down the line of her neck, then along the underside of her jaw. Their second kiss was wild and sweet—pledging all and promising more.

**Kiss #3**

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Running one hand curiously through her hair, he watched the ebony strands fall between his fingers. Kagome forgot to breathe, and when his cheek brushed against the side of her face, he felt her tremble. He found the rounded curve of her ear and traced with his nose, then sniffed delicately at her bared throat. Drawn to explore further, he reached out to taste her skin. Unhurried, he brought his mouth to hers, flicking small licks across her lips until she yielded, opening to him. Patiently, insistently, he courted her trust and wooed her acceptance. His kiss was his claim.

**Kiss #4**

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He approached her slowly, wary of her temper. Inching forward, his allowed his lips to brush hers swiftly, before pulling back to gauge her reaction. Kagome's eyes shone with surprise, delight, and acceptance. Encouraged, he clasped her to his racing heart. Head bowed over her shoulder, he whispered her name in a voice that trembled. Her small hand found his cheek, and he leaned into her touch; then his lips found hers. He poured all his love and devotion into their caress, and she met him with equal ardor. He was hers. She was his. It would always be so.

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**End Note:** For those who appreciate the care given to details, the Author's Note for this drabble collection was also exactly 100 words. ׃׃grin׃׃ And for those who might _possibly_ have been stumped (surely not!), the first kiss was bestowed by our favorite amorous monk, the second by a certain besotted wolf, the third by the taiyoukai of the Western Lands, and the fourth by Kagome's beloved hanyou. Happy Valentine's Day! - forthright


	9. Pygmalion

**Disclaimer:** I hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this little drabble… especially for the smooth-talking monk who fancies himself a regular 'enry 'iggins. The true creative force behind the characters would be Rumiko Takahashi.

Originally posted to Live Journal on February 8, 2007.

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**Pygmalion**

Growling in frustration Kagome stalked off, leaving a confused hanyou staring after her. Miroku sidled up, "Could've been worse."

"Yeah, I could be eating dirt right now." Giving Miroku a sidelong glance, he ventured, "So… what exactly did I do?"

"It's more a case of what you didn't do, Inuyasha."

"Alright, what _didn't_ I do?"

Miroku gestured towards the remains of their meal. "Did you enjoy today's lunch?"

Blinking at the sudden change in subject, Inuyasha shrugged. "I ate it, didn't I?"

"Do you realize that Kagome went to a lot of trouble to prepare this food?"

"I guess," Inuyasha replied slowly.

"Did you _thank _Kagome-sama for her efforts?" persisted Miroku.

Inuyasha crossed his arms defensively and muttered, "Shit."

"Exactly."

"I'm no good with this stuff," grumbled Inuyasha.

"My friend, allow me to demonstrate."

Throughout the day, Inuyasha watched Miroku closely. The monk flattered amiably, doled out compliments, and thanked the girls courteously at every turn. The hanyou grunted disgustedly._ Figures… he's making me look bad._

At dinner, Inuyasha accepted his bowl silently, sparing Miroku a glance. The monk raised his eyebrows and nodded towards Kagome encouragingly.Looking up, Inuyasha caught girl's eye.

"This is good," he said gruffly.

Kagome smiled, her cheeks tinged pink with pleasure. "Would you like some more, Inuyasha?" she offered warmly.

As the miko refilled his bowl, the hanyou looked back at Miroku. The monk's eyes were shining with laughter, though he nodded his approval. "It's a start," he mouthed softly, returning to his dinner.

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**End Note:** This drabble was created in answer to iyfic contest's theme for Week 86, 'Praise.' 250 words.


	10. Opposition

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this oneshot… especially for the monk who puts so much faith in his own expertise. A nod is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

This oneshot was originally posted to Live Journal on February 26, 2007.

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**Opposition**

Miroku watched covertly as Inuyasha growled into Kagome's face. "You're not going anywhere," the hanyou insisted angrily.

Kagome clung to the last shreds of her composure. "Yes, I am. I have school tomorrow and we need supplies," she enunciated through gritted teeth.

_Why does he even bother_, wondered the monk as he considered the half-demon's futile posturing. _It's the same every time. Any minute now she'll 'sit' him and leave anyhow._ Miroku shook his head over the foolishness of this recurring battle. _I don't know what Inuyasha's so concerned about. Kagome always comes back. _

Miroku gave that a moment's thought. _Unless he really doesn't realize she'll always come back. Could he be that dense? _Giving the hanyou a speculative look, the monk sighed. _Yes, he might just be. Well, to be fair, he's not dense, just blind. I can't believe he doesn't see what's right in front of his nose._

Faced off over the yellow backpack that lay on the ground between them, the pair continued their argument. "What is your problem?" Kagome asked in exasperation, arms flung wide. "I need to go home; it's just for a couple days!"

Inuyasha's ears lay back at the dangerous tone that had crept into the young woman's voice, but crossed his arms across his chest and stood his ground. "I said you're staying."

_There, could he be more clear? I wonder if she realizes what he's trying to tell her in his own overly-demanding wa_y? Assessing the fire in Kagome's eyes and the angry flush on her cheeks, Miroku took the realistic view. _Probably not. She's a bundle of emotions, that one, and once her temper's up, I doubt she's capable to catching onto Inuyasha's subtleties. Maybe if he lowered his voice a bit and rephrased it. 'Stay with me,' has a better ring to it._

It was obvious to the monk that Inuyasha had feelings for Kagome. Despite his customary gruffness, the affection behind Inuyasha's actions was apparent. The light that crept unawares into his eyes when he watched Kagome betrayed the truth. What's more, a corresponding tenderness lit the young woman's gaze. Her eyes fairly glowed when they rested on the hanyou, and even when Inuyasha was terse with her, a soft smile would play across her lips after he'd turned away.

Miroku couldn't figure out how the inu-hanyou could ignore such obvious signals. Where were those famous youkai instincts? _That's it though—he's got to be ignoring them, or at least avoiding them. If those soft eyes and longing looks had been directed my way, well_… it didn't bear thinking about. _Maybe Inuyasha isn't certain and does not wish to assume? I suppose that's honorable. Slows things down quite a bit, though. Maybe he's just… shy?_

A plan began forming in the monk's agile mind. _Perhaps those two could benefit from my considerable… experience? I could use my expertise and intervene, offer a little help, nudge them in the right direction._ Turning his attention back to Inuyasha and Kagome, Miroku made up his mind.

Calmly stepping between his bickering friends, Miroku scooped up the yellow backpack and slipped a hand around Kagome's elbow. With all the smoothness of a practiced felon, he smiled into Inuyasha's startled face. "Excuse me, Inuyasha," he said pleasantly. "I need a word in private with Kagome-sama, and as she is leaving for her era now, I shall simply escort her to the Well. The walk will give us plenty of time to confer."

Without pausing for answer, Miroku strolled off unhurriedly, Kagome firmly in tow. Having lost his train of thought completely, Inuyasha gaped after them, but eventually found his voice, "Oi! Miroku! What do you think you're doing with Kagome?"

The monk waved a hand lazily, calling back without even turning his head. "I already told you that, Inuyasha," he chided. "Don't you worry now, Kagome-sama will be quite safe with me."

The young woman peeped over her shoulder to where the hanyou stood rooted to the spot, incredulous. "See you in a couple days, Inuyasha," she called in an apologetic tone.

As the monk led Kagome towards the nearby meadow, she gazed at him candidly. "Thanks, Miroku-sama. I really didn't want to have to 'sit' him again."

Miroku smiled warmly down at her. "It is always a pleasure to come to the rescue of a beautiful lady," he stated with a wink.

Rolling her eyes at his predictable flirtation, Kagome ignored the flattery. "Did you really have something you wanted to talk about, or was that just a ruse?"

The monk affected astonishment. "Kagome-sama, you think I would stoop to underhanded tactics in order to…"

"Yes, actually," the girl interrupted with a giggle.

"All right, all right," Miroku sighed gustily before continuing, "I do have a proposition for you."

"A… proposition," Kagome repeated flatly.

The monk shook his head. "Hmm. Perhaps that is not the best choice of words." After a pause, he tried a different tack. "Would you say that our friend Inuyasha is fearless in the face of opposition?" he asked.

"Of course," Kagome agreed with a smile. "You can't deny his confidence in battle, no matter who he's up against."

The monk nodded. "Then why do you suppose all that cocksure fearlessness evaporates when he's faced with… you?" queried Miroku solemnly.

"Me?"

Miroku smiled knowingly at the wide-eyed miko before directing his gaze to the path ahead. "Yes, Kagome-sama. I think his feelings for you are clear enough, yet for some reason he is holding back from speaking of them with you."

"Oh… umm…" Kagome faltered uncertainly.

The monk charged ahead despite Kagome's fluster. "Since Inuyasha seems to be most bold in the face of opposition, I thought to offer my services."

Kagome slowed to a stop, brow furrowed in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"Opposition," repeated Miroku calmly. "If Inuyasha is most sure when facing an opponent, perhaps we should give him one."

"Are you…" the young woman began uncertainly. "Are you saying you want to make Inuyasha jealous… of you?"

"Not jealous, really," clarified the monk. "We just need to stir up his protective instincts a bit."

"Oh, I don't know if that's such a good idea," Kagome said skeptically. "He already knows you're a letch, and I'm certainly not going to let you grope me at every turn."

"Ah, Kagome-sama," he sighed grandly. "Have you so little faith in my abilities? I can be very convincing," he assured her with a waggle of his eyebrows.

"If that's the extent of your acting abilities, Miroku-sama, no one will be fooled." Frowning, she added, "And if you_ are_ too convincing, you might just get hurt. You know how Inuyasha gets whenever Kouga comes around." Kagome shook her head adamantly, "No, I think it's a bad idea."

Miroku leaned onto his shakujou and gave a low laugh. "Always protecting us, aren't you, Kagome-sama," he murmured affectionately. The monk dropped all pretense and laid out his plan. "I'm not suggesting anything drastic. All it will take to get your overprotective hanyou to bristle is a little courtesy on my part. No grand schemes; just a little encouragement in the right direction, nothing more."

Kagome tipped her head to one side. "So, your big plan of opposition is to be… polite to me?"

The monk grinned. "That about sums it up!" he agreed readily. "I shall be courteous, you shall be kind, and he shall play right into our hands."

"Huh," Kagome muttered as she resumed walking along the path. "Well, I don't quite see how that will accomplish anything, but there's certainly no harm in being nice."

"You'd be surprised what an incentive competition can be," offered Miroku serenely.

As they drew even with the Bone Eater's Well, Kagome reached to take her backpack from the monk. "Why would you offer to do this, Miroku-sama? You don't really seem the type to play matchmaker."

"Let's call it… being a mediator," suggested the monk. "It's a shame for Inuyasha not to appreciate what he has in you, Kagome-sama. I'm just trying to open his eyes." With a small shrug he added, "I want you to be happy."

"All right then," accepted the young woman. "See you in a couple days, Miroku-sama." With a wave and a smile, she was gone.

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When the Inutachi resumed their travels three days later, Miroku placed himself between Kagome and Sango and made an extra effort to be charming. Though initially wary of wandering hands, the girls soon relaxed as the monk entertained them, telling funny stories and making little jokes and paying silly compliments until the two were in stitches. They practically walked into Inuyasha when the hanyou pulled to a sudden stop.

"We'll take a break here," he announced in clipped tones. The girls seemed genuinely surprised that it was midday already… and that Inuyasha had willingly called a halt.

Miroku fought back a smile over Inuyasha's obvious annoyance. _I think our friend feels a little left out. _Kagome began pulling supplies for a quick lunch from her backpack, as the rest of the group settled down in the shade. When the remains of their meal had been cleared away and the group was ready to move on again, the monk stepped to resume his place between Kagome and Sango only to have Inuyasha bar his path.

"I want to cover more ground before dark. Come on, Kagome," he urged, crouching down to offer the young woman a ride.

Pleased, Kagome moved towards Inuyasha, risking a quick glance up into Miroku's face as she passed by. He gave her a cheeky wink, and Kagome flashed him a bright smile before placing her hands on Inuyasha's shoulders and hopping aboard.

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The next day, they were on foot again, picking their way through undisturbed wilderness. When they came across a wide river, dotted with stepping stones, Miroku turned to the miko with a flourish and offered her his hand. "Would you like some assistance in crossing, Kagome-sama?" he asked sweetly.

Before she could answer, Inuyasha swept through, catching Kagome up into his arms and crossing the rushing water in a single bound.

"Stupid monk," he grumbled to no one in particular.

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When they made camp the next day, it was Miroku's turn to gather for firewood. When he returned to their clearing, he made his way to Kagome's side and offered her some fruit he'd discovered while foraging. Her delight over his small offering warmed his heart, and he noted the intensity in Inuyasha's golden eyes with quiet amusement. _How will you answer that, my hanyou friend?_

When Inuyasha stomped out of the clearing, the young woman looked after him with dismay. "I wouldn't worry, Kagome-sama," Miroku murmured reassuringly.

Within the hour, Inuyasha sauntered casually back into the camp, the cleaned carcass of a boar over one shoulder. He presented the meat to Kagome, muttering something about it being more nourishing than a stupid handful of berries. Miroku looked away and smiled.

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He let it go on like this for a couple of weeks, gently teasing Inuyasha into protecting his interests. For the duration, Miroku enjoyed sharing the harmless little plot with Kagome. It was rather… nice to have her warm grey eyes turning to him for guidance. She may have looked at Inuyasha with love, but she'd looked to him for approval.

It was with a wistful twinge that Miroku relinquished his role as Inuyasha's opposition. The ploy had served its purpose and his services were no longer required. If he didn't miss his guess, he'd say the two had reached some kind of understanding. There was another reason, though.

Perhaps, in a way, they'd both been a little blind. Inuyasha, to the depths of love and loyalty waiting to be found in Kagome. Himself, to the selfish impulse that had prompted him to initiate their little pretense. For a short while, Miroku had played at wooing Kagome. The clear-sighted monk recognized the admiration that had begun to take root in his heart, so he stepped back while he still could. With a wry smile at his own foolishness, Miroku darted a glance towards Inuyasha. _His eyes are open now, and he will not take her for granted. That is as it should be_. He allowed his gaze to drift to Kagome, violet eyes warming at the joy that suffused her countenance. _At least she will be happy. That is all I ever wanted. _

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**End Note:** This oneshot was written in response to the Live Journal community iyfic contest's weekly challenge. The word count was free and the theme was 'Blind.' 2,072 words.


	11. Worth It All

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this bit of creative squish… especially for the soon-to-be-mother who's laboring towards a happy ending.

This oneshot was originally posted to LJ on March 11, 2007.

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**Worth It All**

"I don't want to do this anymore," Kagome whimpered, looking pleadingly up into Sango's face.

"It's a little late for that, dear," the older girl replied with a patient smile. "You're doing just fine."

Kagome groaned softly as the pains returned and bit her lip to hold back any louder cries. She felt a hand on her forehead, cool and steady, and couldn't resist the urge to beg. "Can I be done now?"

Her uncharacteristic childishness brought a wry chuckle from Sango. "You'll be happier if you see this through. Don't you want to hold your baby?"

"Yes," Kagome sighed wistfully, only to gasp as another contraction gripped her midsection.

"Breathe, Kagome," soothed Sango. "Try to relax through it. Don't fight the pressure; it's making the way ready."

"I know, I know," snapped the young woman as she fought to comply. When she finally sagged wearily onto the pallet, she blinked back tears. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I don't mean to be difficult."

Sango chose to ignore the mood swings and continued to reassure her friend, "Don't worry about it Kagome. Childbirth is a very emotional time, and you're coming along beautifully."

"How much longer?" she asked tiredly.

"Not long now," Sango said, patting her hand.

Again the muscles in Kagome's belly strained towards delivery. When the contraction eased, she was left panting and sweating. This was unlike any battle she'd ever fought, but it was just as exhausting and just as frightening. She'd never felt more vulnerable, and there was no one who could protect her from this pain.

"I can't believe you've done this more than once," Kagome grumbled sourly. "Why would anyone want to go through this again if they know what it's like?"

Sango just smiled knowingly, "You'll see."

That earned her a glare from the weary young woman, though she held her tongue. It was hardly fair to take out her frustrations on Sango now. Kagome had been enduring this inevitable and increasing discomfort for what felt like an eternity, and Sango had stayed with her all along the way, placid in the face of Kagome's inner turmoil. With her cool cloths and soft words, Sango radiated a confidence that Kagome willing borrowed.

Kagome lived from one contraction to the next, losing all sense of time. There was only this hut, this bed, this pain. Wrung out and weak, she stirred fitfully under the thin blanket. "I don't know if I can do this, Sango. I'm too tired."

"When the time comes, you'll find the strength," Sango said firmly, and Kagome felt inclined to believer her.

The next contraction came sooner than expected, catching the expectant mother off-guard. The pain of it consumed her, making thoughts difficult and speech impossible. "Ngh," was the only protest she could muster.

This pain was awful, but at least it served a purpose—that was something to cling to. If there hadn't been the hope that this travail would eventually end, Kagome might have given up in despair.

Then something shifted inside and Kagome's eyes widened in surprise, "Oh!"

Sango, who'd been watching her carefully and discretely timing the quickening spasms, nodded wisely and moved to help Kagome shift her legs. "This is it then, dear," she said with authority. "With the next contraction I want you to bear down."

"It's time?" wavered Kagome.

"Yes," smiled Sango. "It's time to meet your baby."

The next contraction came with a vengeance and Kagome struggled to work with the pressure. As it lifted she panted wearily.

"That was good, Kagome," Sango reassured. "Rest until the next contraction and then do just the same."

Another swell and another followed. Kagome heard a cry of exertion and realized she had made it. Through the haze, she heard Sango's voice. "That's it Kagome," she called softly, encouragingly, "I can see the head now."

Kagome choked back her tears and fought to focus.

"Just one more time and you can hold you baby," Sango promised.

Tired, but determined, Kagome gathered herself up for a last push. Sango was busily readying soft cloths, anticipation in her movements. Kagome felt the next contraction building, muscles tensing for the final expulsion.

"Now, Kagome," Sango directed. "Give me a slow, steady push."

Kagome felt as if she was splitting in two. There was a tightness and a stretching, and she screamed in spite of herself. After a moment, something gave way and the burning pressure passed.

"Good girl, Kagome," Sango praised. "Take a deep breath and give me another push."

It was over so quickly then. A jumbled impression of confusing sensations as something warm and wet and slippery was freed from within.

Kagome's head fell back in relief, hardly believing her ordeal was finally over. As a thin cry sounded from Sango's arms, she struggled up onto her elbows, eyes wide. Sango was cleaning the face of an infant, slick with blood and afterbirth, and she seemed to be laughing at Kagome's confusion. "Did you forget about this little one?"

The cries quickly increased in strength and volume, and Sango tutted and fussed as she made quick work of the cord. Wrapping the babe loosely in a blanket, she laid the protesting bundle on Kagome's stomach before reaching for a shallow basin. "I'll just get you cleaned up. You take a few minutes to get acquainted with your son."

"My son," Kagome breathed in an awed voice.

Slowly, she lifted the corner of the blanket away from her baby's face. A tiny fist flailed blindly across his face, inadvertently bopping himself in the nose. Charmed by the antic, Kagome giggled, then moved to intercede, placing one finger in his fist's path. To her utter delight, he opened his hand and latched onto her finger with a firm grip.

"Hello, little fella," Kagome cooed, "I'm your Mama."

At the sound of her voice, the baby twisted, turning towards her, his little face squinched up with the effort it took to blink open first one eye, then the next. Kagome gasped in wonder, then melted as she lost her heart all over again to a pair of golden eyes.

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**End Note:** This oneshot was written in response to iyfic contest's challenge for Week 89: Birth. 1,019 words.


	12. Gotcha!

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this wee little drabble… especially for two mischief-minded girls who are out for a giggle. The entire Inutachi belongs to Rumiko Takahashi.

**Author's Note:** This perfect drabble (exactly 100 words) was written for Forthright's Foolish Mortals April Fool's Day Drabble Challenge, in the 'Perfect Prank' category.

Originally posted to Live Journal on March 29, 2007.

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**Gotcha!**

Deep in discussion, the boys hardly noticed when the girls returned from the river, giggling and whispering. Inuyasha didn't bat an eye when Kagome's short skirt swished past his line of sight. When Sango's pink and green kimono settled by Miroku, he automatically inched towards a familiar curve. A small _eep!_ brought him up short, and Inuyasha tensed, momentarily disoriented. The hanyou sniffed, turning towards 'Kagome' only to leap backwards comically. Miroku's jaw dropped as it registered that the laughing eyes beside him did not belong to Sango. The girls dissolved into gales of laughter, "You should see your faces!"


	13. Bokuseno

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this drabble… especially for the chatty tree youkai who knows how to spin a good yarn when given the opportunity. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

This drabble was originally posted to Live Journal on April 2, 2007.

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**Bokuseno**

Bokuseno preferred this hermit's domain, hidden from the vagaries of humans and their uncertain awe. His seclusion was an illusion; the forgotten grove merely the focal point from which he extended his considerable awareness—testing the air, tasting the earth. Time touched him lightly in passing, serving only to increase and strengthen. Little escaped his notice, for he was by nature a gatherer. Knowledge was his delight, and he stored it up, layer upon layer, like rings. Human or youkai, it made little difference—he knew all their ballads, battles, bravery, and brevity. Lore and legends were his memories, and those who knew of him sought the ancient magnolia out when they needed answers. The taiyoukai's son was such a person—an infrequent supplicant. The elder son inadvertently brought the uncertain steps of his hanyou brother into this sanctuary, the younger chasing after an old scent trail into the forest deeps.

"Welcome, son of Taisho."

Ears flickered wildly as a low, rolling laugh resonated up through the ground underfoot. "You know me?"

"You, as your father before you… Inuyasha."

Brandished sword and bared teeth and brusque words were cast aside with a question that broke with hope, "You… knew my old man?"

Beginning that day, Bokuseno learned that while the possession of knowledge was satisfying, the sharing of it could be sweet. The hanyou returned often just to sit, rapt., and time slowed to encompass the connection they forged and the pleasure they derived from the retelling of old tales.

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**End Note: **This drabble was written for Live Journal's iyfic contest community's theme for Week 91—Tree. 250 words.


	14. Even

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this drabble… especially for the monk who seems to find more pleasure in ruffling a certain someone's dignity than would be considered healthy. A nod of recognition is bent to Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

**Author's Note:** If you enjoy this bit of Sess/Mir mischief, I'd like to point you towards my latest venture: _Tolerable_. It's slated to become my newest collection of pairing-specific drabbles and oneshots. _Tolerable_ joins _Imperceptible_ (which is for Sess/Kag) and _Incorrigible_ (which is for Mir/Kag).

This drabble was originally posted to Live Journal on April 28, 2007.

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**Even**

An even trade, a question for a question—it had seemed the best way to get answers. To renege now would be dishonorable. _Still…_

Miroku had asked Inuyasha what he should say once alone with Sesshoumaru, but the hanyou just scowled, "Find out what the bastard knows about Naraku. Other than that, I don't give a crap what he has to say." _Ah, the possibilities!_

"Sesshoumaru-sama, is there anything more you can tell us about Naraku?"

"No." _Simple enough. One down, four to go._

"Sesshoumaru-sama, is there some significance to the pelt you wear over your shoulder?"

The taiyoukai blinked, "What?"

Miroku nodded towards the length of fur cheerfully, "That. What's it for?"

Silence stretched.

"Why do you…"

"Ah, ah!" interrupted Miroku, holding up a finger. "If you ask another question, I get another as well."

Sesshoumaru's mouth closed with an audible click. Finally, "It's my tail."

"You don't say," murmured the monk, eyeing the appendage with interest.

_Can this indignity get any worse? _"Proceed," the youkai ordered.

Miroku considered his options. "What color would you call those?"

"Explain," ground out the taiyoukai.

"Your stripes. They're not really red, and I wouldn't call them pink. Mauve doesn't fit, and plum is a deeper color…"

"Are you serious?"

"Periodically."

Glancing at the slashes decorating the pale skin of one wrist, Sesshoumaru shrugged. _I'll just kill him later._ "My mother called it magenta."

"Oh, yes. That's quite apt."

_Two down, three to go._

"So… are there more?"

"More?"

"Stripes."

_He will die._

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**End Note:** This drabble was written in response to the Live Journal community iyfic contest's theme for Week 94—color. 250 words.


	15. Untapped Potential

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this short drabble… especially for the two who each had to learn how to trust the other. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

This drabble was originally posted to Live Journal on June 14, 2007.

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**Untapped Potential**

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Tetsusaiga was more than just a battered heirloom; that much became abundantly clear the first time he felt its power surge through his soul. It took Inuyasha unawares, that questing presence, that knowing touch—demanding allegiance before granting its alliance. The sword sought one who understood its function, sympathized with its resolve, aligned themselves with its purpose. The demonic blade searched the hanyou out, plumbing his depths and weighing his heart. Nothing but the fiercest instinct to protect would unlock its secrets, so Tetsusaiga had winnowed through Inuyasha's motives and untangled the emotions that drove him to draw the blade. When his intentions were deemed acceptable, the Steel-Cleaving Fang awoke, unleashing its potential.

Tetsusaiga was more, _far more_ than just a hand-me-down weapon; that much was shockingly obvious the first time it whispered his name. Inuyasha always figured the fang had a certain personality, even a mind of its own, but when Totosai reforged the shattered blade with one of the hanyou's own fangs, his father's sword was reborn. Tetsusaiga spoke to him in a voice no other could hear—insistent, opinionated, independent. Their rapport was instantaneous, and as their bond deepened, Inuyasha trusted his blade as he would a friend. Tetsusaiga knew him as no other could, and tamed the side of himself that Inuyasha feared the most because he understood it the least. With every new victory and successive acquisition, Tetsusaiga whispered to him of an inner strength and untapped resources. '_I will help you unleash your potential.'_

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This was originally written in response to a drabble challenge from the Live Journal community iyissekiwa—Unleash Theme. 250 words.


	16. Trading Intimacies

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this quick drabble… especially for the one who always seems to be suggesting something slightly indecent, even when he isn't. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

This drabble was originally posted to Live Journal on August 20, 2007.

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**Trading Intimacies**

"Inuyasha, have you ever… sniffed me?"

"_What_?"

"Have you ever sniffed me?"

Inuyasha's ears flattened to either side. "What kind of question is that?"

Miroku shrugged casually. "As an inu-hanyou, your sense of smell is very important to you. Correct?"

"Yeah," Inuyasha agreed slowly.

"Your nose allows you to take advantage of others—uncovering intimate details about them without their ever being aware of your… intrusion."

Inuyasha scowled. "You make it sound like I'm doing something perverted."

"Not at all. I'm just pointing out that you rely on your sense of smell—it's how you assess your surroundings."

"Guess so," he admitted warily.

"I, on the other hand, prefer to interact with the world utilizing _another _means."

"Uh-huh."

"I like to touch things," elaborated the monk significantly.

Inuyasha's arms crossed over his chest. "You don't say," he drawled, beginning to suspect an ulterior motive. Miroku nodded encouragingly, obviously waiting for something. The hanyou's eyes narrowed, realizing that there was a veiled request here somewhere."Houshi," he growled. "Are you saying that because I _may_ have sniffed you at some point without your permission, I should let you… touch me?"

"You make it sound like I want to do something perverted," Miroku teased, eyes dancing.

Slowly Inuyasha's horrified expression cleared. "You have _got_ to be kidding me." The monk straightened hopefully, and the hanyou waved him over. "Keh. Get it out of your system," he grumbled, sighing wearily as a tentative finger gently traced the edge of his ear.

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**End Note:** This drabble was written for the Live Journal contest community iyissekiwa—Touch Theme. 249 words.


	17. Contingency

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this short drabble… especially for those whose loyalty narrowly outweighed their cowardice. ׃׃twinkle׃׃ A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

**Debts and Dedications:** Conspiratorial winks and smiles are doled out to jrmaxwell for offering to beta (I'm so glad we got rid of that pesky comma) and to Minako Miharu, who good-naturedly put up with my insistence that her twins should be named 'Tetsusaiga' and 'Tenseiga' for the better part of three trimesters. This drabble was posted on their birthdate to help celebrate their arrival. Welcome little ones!

This drabble was originally posted to Live Journal on December 13, 2007.

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**Contingency**

Tetsusaiga thrummed under his palm, its deep pulsations offering a pleasant underpinning to the lighter cadences ringing from Tenseiga's blade. He often wondered if the swords picked up on his moods, for their current harmony perfectly suited his high spirits. Smiling faintly to himself, the Inu no Taisho strode across the courtyard, pleased with the outcome of the morning's discussions. Totosai and Myoga were not the most courageous among his retainers, but their loyalty was unquestionable. He had no doubt that if something unforeseen were to occur, they would keep their word and carry out his wishes. Sesshoumaru would not be pleased, but this was merely a contingency plan—one he hoped need never be implemented.

The taiyoukai sighed, and his momentary regret echoed through Tenseiga like a soft groan. In an unconsciously comforting gesture, his hand slipped from its accustomed place on Tetsusaiga's tattered hilt to run along Tenseiga's polished sheath. A son needed his father, but in his absence, he could rest assured that each of his boys would carry a part of him. Splitting the pair seemed almost… cruel. They'd been inseparably tied since their forging, riding at his hip like two halves of a greater whole—powerful in complementary ways, each possessing a different kind of strength. He could only hope that his sons would be able to hear the swords as he did and grasp the lessons they embodied. _Should I be unable, you must be there in my stead_. Two blades thrummed their assent.

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**End Note:** This drabble was my entry in the Live Journal community iyissekiwa's biweekly contest—Ties Theme. 250 words.


	18. Uncle

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this bit of mischievous speculation… especially for the one who doth protest too much. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

This drabble was originally posted to Live Journal on January 21, 2008.

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**Uncle**

Inuyasha backed up fast, inadvertently bumping into Miroku, who chuckled as he gripped the hanyou's shoulders. "Now, now, Inuyasha, there's no need to fear," the monk said pleasantly, calmly preventing his friend from bolting. "You're in no immediate danger."

The panicked expression on Inuyasha's face changed to a scowl. "I ain't _scared_; I just don't want to _hold_ it," he snapped, arms rigidly at his sides, fists balled in stubborn refusal.

"Such a big fuss over such a small matter," chided Miroku, sending the hanyou into a splutter that distracted him long enough for the new mother to press a warm weight into his chest. Reflexively, Inuyasha's arm moved to brace the precarious bundle, and before he could stop the transfer, his hand was curved around soft blankets, and the woman's had pulled away.

"Aw, _no_…!" he moaned, a whine edging his protest. "I _ain't_ interested in babies; take it back already!" He extended the infant awkwardly, but only received a gentle smile and the shake of a head. With an angry huff, the hanyou turned his face away, refusing to acknowledge the tiny person in his arms. When the newborn emitted a responding growl _so_ pathetic, it wasn't much more than a squeak, an ear pricked. Curious in spite of himself, Inuyasha lifted the blanket's corner. Surprise shifted slowly into a smirk as he traced a wondering fingertip over the fuzzy edge of one silvery puppy ear. "Oi, pipsqueak," he whispered conspiratorially. "I think we got him outnumbered now."

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**End Note: **This drabble was written for the Live Journal community iyfic(underscore)contest and their theme for Week 128—Baby. 250 words.


	19. Epiphany

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this little snippet… especially for the one who's behaving badly. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

**A Debt of Gratitude:** Many thanks to Fenikkusuken, beta of fics big and small.

This drabble was originally posted on Live Journal on January 23, 2008.

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**Epiphany**

Inuyasha skidded backwards, Tetsusaiga shrieking with metallic dissonance as Sesshoumaru delivered blow after punishing blow to the flat of the blade. Confused by the tactic, he braced against the fresh onslaught, trying to figure out what his bastard of a brother was doing. The sword couldn't take much more abuse. Inuyasha refused to relinquish his father's fang, and apparently Sesshoumaru had decided that if _he _couldn't wield Tetsusaiga, no one would. _He's trying to break it!_ With the next strike, Inuyasha winced as the ear-splitting wail set his teeth on edge. Tetsusaiga's pained cry cut him to the quick, and though his promise seemed backwards, Inuyasha vowed to protect his sword.

Without hesitation, he took the next hit himself, sparing the fang, but received a burst of poison to the face for his heroism. Eyes stinging, half-blinded, he squinted upwards, trying to track Sesshoumaru's movements. To his astonishment, his senses shifted. His brother's _youki_ swirled in a dark vortex, tendrils of power making an impressive display as they billowed outward on unseen currents. _There! _For just a moment, he caught a glint, teasing his dimmed vision and tugging at his memory. A tear—_he called it the Wind Scar_—flashed again, at the point where their _youki_ collided. Though his eyes refused to focus on the elusive fissure, he could smell the winds scraping together like claws on a blade. Using that as his guide, Inuyasha put everything he had behind his thrust, depending on Tetsusaiga to do the rest.

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**End Note:** This drabble was written for the Live Journal community iyissekiwa, and their contest theme—Tear. 250 words.


	20. Cavalry

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this bit of drabbling… especially for the on who's happier than he lets on. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

**A Debt of Gratitude: **Thanks to Fenikkusuken for reminding me that you can't have _shouki _without a _youkai_.

This drabble was originally posted to Live Journal on February 13, 2008.

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**Cavalry**

The unrelenting barrage of the dragon-youkai's attack roared through the air with deafening heat. When another energy bolt exploded against the boulders to their left, Miroku used one trailing sleeve to protect Sango's pale face from the resulting hail of stones. The taijiya was unconscious, having suffered a blow to the head. Nearby, Kagome cradled a bleeding arm against her chest, and though she met the monk's searching look with a brave smile, her eyes were dark with pain. Inuyasha cursed under his breath, ignoring his own wounds as he considered their options. "We've gotta go on the offensive. I ain't waiting around for him to find us," the hanyou muttered.

Miroku eyed Inuyasha's battered state, but concurred. "I'll attempt to distract him," he offered grimly.

"I just need an opening," Inuyasha assured him, then hesitated, hand on Tetsusaiga's hilt, senses straining. "Aw, hell. That asshole's got the worst timing," he grumbled.

Following the hanyou's gaze, Miroku spotted an all-too-familiar pinpoint of light. Once overhead, the glowing sphere resolved itself into Sesshoumaru, who gleamed like white death against the shouki-darkened skies. The taiyoukai waited patiently for their attacker to notice him, then raised one hand, flaring his fingers in an ominous display of claws. "One thing is certain," Miroku commented wryly. "Your brother knows how to make an entrance."

Inuyasha's shoulders sagged briefly in relief before he straightened with a scowl. "Oi! Sesshoumaru! This one's mine!" he hollered as he drew his sword and charged back into the fray.

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**End Note:** This drabble was written for the Live Journal community iyissekiwa and their prompt for Contest 45—Entrance. 249 words.


	21. Wolf Whistles

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this bit of modern era audacity… especially for the ones who know how to make a woman feel special. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

**A Debt of Gratitude:** Fenikkusuken is mine beta, and a good'un at that.

This drabble was originally posted to Live Journal on March 25, 2008.

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**Wolf Whistles**

"Everything seems to be in order," conceded the architect, meticulously re-rolling his blueprints.

The foreman relaxed at the oblique compliment. "Don't you worry, sir. My people are the best."

"Hnn."

Just then, there was a stir among the crew. "I see her! Here she comes!"

"Bet she notices me," boasted one.

"Bet I can make her blush," countered another.

The foreman glanced sheepishly at his superior. "They're on break—just a bit of harmless fun."

Curious, the architect strolled across narrow girders to join the workmen, who made room and helpfully pointed out a strangely-familiar woman. "Why her?" he inquired, trying to place her.

"Are you blind?" scoffed one.

"She _likes_ us," another claimed, and with that, catcalls and wolf whistles filled the air. She slowed, smiling faintly at the crew lining the third story.

"She's got it bad for me."

"Oh no, it's _me_."

"Idiots," muttered the stranger in their midst. "No wonder she stares."

"Huh?"

"You're the blind ones. She's a miko and sees you for the pack of wolves you are."

"No kidding?"

"Maybe she likes wolves, then… since she keeps coming back for more."

"Hnn… I think not."

"Think you can do better… _dog_?" came the good-natured challenge.

"Bet she takes one look and turns tail," jibed another.

"Unlikely."

"Prove it!"

Without another word, the architect swept away, tossing his hard-hat to the foreman in passing. Every eye widened as the elevator doors closed upon a confident smirk.

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"S-S-Sesshoumaru-sama?" she gasped.

"It's been awhile… Kagome."

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**End Note: **This drabble was written for the Live Journal community ebony(underscore)silks and their prompt for Week 44—Catcall. 250 words.


	22. Tachi

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this brief scene… especially for the two who set out together in the end. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

This drabble was originally posted to Live Journal on July 6, 2008.

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**Tachi**

The smoke-choked air was thick with fear as two girls sank to the ground, clinging to one another as tears streamed down their cheeks. They were the last, and their helpless whimpers betrayed them to the monster whose slaughter was nearly complete. Cruel eyes gleamed. Razor claws flexed. With a moan, Sachi fainted, leaving Keiko alone to witness the killing blow.

A screaming roar split the sky, and the huddled girl stared without comprehension as her headless attacker slumped to the ground. She searched for any sign of her savior, but what she found were flames… and glowing red eyes. Keiko gaped at the giant demon-cat and pulled Sachi closer. A chain rattled, and through the haze, she made out a figure standing beside the youkai—a man dressed in armor. As she watched, he lifted his arm, recalling a fearsome scythe which he settled upon his back.

Her lips trembled as her rescuer dropped to one knee in front of her. "Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice muffled by the mask he wore. Keiko slowly shook her head and cast a frightened glance at the man's imposing companion. "Don't worry, Kirara won't bite. Is your friend all right?"

"M-my sister… she fainted."

Scanning the surrounding carnage, he slipped the mask from his face and offered her a sad smile. "It's good that you still have your sister." Slowly, he extended his hand. "My name is Kohaku… and I think the two of you had better come with me."

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**End Note:** This drabble was written for the Live Journal community iyissekiwa and their special challenge that was hosted to celebrate the ending of the Inuyasha manga. The theme was 'Spin-Off', and participants were invited to speculate about which IY character might star in Rumiko Takahashi's next hit manga series. 250 words.


	23. Go Between

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this bit of dialogue… especially for the one caught in the middle. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

This drabble was originally posted to Live Journal on August 10, 2008.

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**Go-Between**

"Sango, What's wrong?" inquired Miroku. The taijiya pointedly ignored both the monk and his question. Worried, he nudged the woman walking between them. "Kagome-sama, would be so kind?"

Taking pity, Kagome asked, "What's up, Sango?"

"You can tell _that monk_ to mind his own business," Sango snapped.

Kagome shot Miroku a sympathetic look, but when she glanced back at Sango, the taijiya arched her brows expectantly. "I'm sure he heard…" Kagome began.

"Tell. Him."

"Miroku-sama, you're in _serious_ trouble. What did you _do_?"

"I'm innocent!" he protested, but Sango's icy silence persisted. "If you please, Kagome-sama?" Miroku begged wearily.

"He says he didn't do it," she relayed.

Sango glared over Kagome's head. "Then what _exactly_ was that pervert doing, cozying up to that widow?"

Kagome gave Miroku a sharp look. "You'd _better_ have a good explanation, Miroku-sama."

"I was bartering with her, not propositioning her."

Sango refused to acknowledge his explanation, forcing another delay as Kagome played go-between. "He _says_ he was only… Wait, you were _bartering_? For what?"

"I happened to notice a plum tree behind that good woman's house." At Kagome's blank look, he elaborated, "Sango is very fond of plums. Here. See?" He pulled two ripe plums from the depths of his voluminous sleeve.

Slowing her steps, Sango looked from the fruit to the man who'd secured them. "For… me?" she managed.

"Yes. For _you_," Miroku smiled.

Finding her presence was no longer required, Kagome slipped away, confident that the couple could manage their reconciliation without her.

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**End Note:** This drabble was written for the Live Journal community iyfic(underscore)contest and their theme for Week 153—Delay. 250 words.


	24. Minstrel

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this short scene… especially for the one who suspected. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

This drabble was originally posted to Live Journal on September 30, 2008.

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**Minstrel**

"Come _on_, sis!" Souta urged, tugging Kagome's hand.

"I have homework," she replied with mild exasperation.

"You need a break," he cheekily argued.

For months, her family had been 'cheering her up', and since it made _them_ feel better, she played along. "So… who did you want to introduce?"

"This guy who plays music in the park."

"A street musician?"

"Guess so… but he's _not_ a beggar."

"You know you're not supposed to talk to strangers!" Kagome scolded.

Souta shrugged sheepishly. "He isn't creepy or anything. He's just… hey, _listen_!"

Kagome caught the faint strains of a violin, and around the next bend, Souta's minstrel came into view, his bow gracefully gliding over strings. They joined the crowd, and Kagome's eyes drifted shut as pure notes sent her heart soaring.

"You need to _see_ him," Souta ordered when it was over.

Kagome dragged her feet reluctantly. "Why?"

"He's… different." A hat pulled low over his ears hid the tall musician's features, but he looked ordinary enough. Hauling her along, Souta hailed the man, then met Kagome's confused glance. "Hurry," he whispered insistently, "Look at his _eyes_." When they stumbled to a halt in front of the violinist, she peered into his face, shocked to find pale gold gazing back.

"So it's you," he finally murmured.

"Sesshoumaru-sama," she breathed.

"I _knew_ it!" Souta exulted. At the youkai's arched brow, the boy's chin came up. "Well… I _hoped_."

Kagome stared in wonder, and for the first time in weeks, she hoped, too.

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**End Note:** This drabble was written for the Live Journal community ebony(underscore)silks and their prompt for Week 66—Strings. 250 words.


	25. Loyalty

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this little fic… especially for the loyal ones. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

**Author's Note:** Congratulations to Lilly, who cheerfully put up with my calling her twins 'Ginta and Hakkaku' during the months when she was expecting. Welcome to the world, little ones!

This drabble was originally posted to Live Journal on November 27, 2008.

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**Loyalty**

"Can you see him?" Hakkaku panted, bracing his hands on his knees as he tried to ease the stitch in his side.

Ginta stood on the brink of a steep slope, scanning the forest below for disturbances in the air currents, but the telltale whirlwind was nowhere in sight. "We lost him," he groaned.

The silver-mohawked demon flopped onto the ground beside their four-legged companions. "_He_ lost _us_," he sighed, scratching a young she-wolf behind her ears.

"Same difference," Ginta shrugged, and several of the wolves' mouths dropped open, tongues lolling in canine amusement. Kouga wasn't the easiest youkai to follow—literally.

They'd all heard grumbles from outsiders. Kouga's outspoken nature and cocksure attitude rubbed his contemporaries' fur the wrong way, but he didn't give a damn what they thought. Kouga wasn't ruled by others' expectations or driven by petty ambitions. They were his pack, and they knew better.

"Hey!" hailed a deep voice from below. They looked over the edge in surprise to find Kouga, arms folded across his chest and foot tapping impatiently. "What's _taking_ you guys?"

"You waited for us!" Hakkaku exclaimed, tearing up slightly.

Kouga smirked. "Well, I'm _not_ waiting all day!" With a careless, beckoning wave, he took to his heels.

"We're coming!" Ginta called, urging his packmates to hit the trail again. They did so without complaint. Why _would_ they complain? They were Kouga's pack, so they understood. At the root of everything Kouga did, there was just _one_ consideration, and that was… them.

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**End Note:** This drabble was written for the Live Journal community iyissekiwa and their prompt for Contest #65—Trail. 250 words.


	26. How Do You Do

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this short story… especially for the one who comes to a startling realization. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess. With compliments to Mother Goose.

This drabble was originally posted to Live Journal on January 12, 2009.

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**How Do You Do?**

_I… __know__ him. _At Kagome's strangled gasp, Sesshoumaru turned ever so slightly, slanting yellow-gold eyes in her direction. A brow arched at her stunned expression, and she knew she was rude to stare… but all she could do was gawk.

"What?" he finally demanded.

"I _know_ you," she breathed.

A second brow rose, joining the first. "Hnn," was all he had to say to that.

_One misty moisty morning,  
__When cloudy was the weather,_

Kagome was almost frantic to return home, and not for silly things like history tests or hot showers or hamburgers. This time, she needed to get back because she had to find out if she was right. _I saw him dozens—no, __hundreds__—of times._ A mysterious 'old man' was a regular at the Higurashi Shrine, and she'd been curious about him since she was small—a tall, silver-haired stranger in a long, leather coat who never hurried, yet always managed to elude her curiosity. _I never saw his face._

_I chanced to meet an old man,  
__Clothed all in leather._

Kagome's feet settled on solid ground, and she hurried to climb out of the well. _Is it even possible? It sounds crazy, even to me._ It was only recently that Inuyasha reluctantly accepted his half-brother's offer of a 'temporary' alliance. As the taiyoukai became a familiar presence, she'd picked up on little things—his stance, his bearing, his gait. Yesterday, when he'd turned his back on her and walked away… something clicked.

In the courtyard, the morning light was muted, lost in a sea of autumn mist. She wasn't sure why she thought the 'old man' might be here today; she just… hoped. Kagome's heart fluttered in anticipation.

_He began to compliment  
__And I began to grin._

He _was_ there—a lone figure, dark against the swirling fog as he stood before Goshinboku with his back to her. She stalked him as she'd done when just a child, but stopped the minute she recalled how futile such tactics would be if this really was Sesshoumaru. Taking a shaky breath, she whispered, "I _knew_ it was you."

"Hnn," came the soft sound of agreement. He turned ever so slightly, slanting yellow-gold eyes in her direction. "How astute."

Kagome smiled broadly and hurried to his side, greeting him like an old friend.

_How do you do? And how do you do?  
__And how do you do again?_

**

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**End Note:** This drabble was written for the Live Journal community dokuga(underscore)contest and their Weekly Perfection prompt for Week 17—Mist. 400 words.


	27. Orders

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this bit of espionage… especially for the one who's used to taking orders. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

**A Debt of Gratitude:** Thanks two Fenikkusuken, who caught my homophone abuse.

This oneshot was originally posted to Live Journal on March 24, 2009.

* * *

**Orders**

_What a waste_, Byakuya decided with an inward sigh. Concealed within the depths of an illusion, he considered his unwitting companion with growing boredom. It seemed that Inuyasha's retreat from his friends would yield nothing more interesting to report than a nap. Byakuya let the upcoming scenario play out in his mind. _'Although it was the __perfect__ opportunity to rid the world of your sworn enemy, I stayed my hand and watched over Inuyasha while he slept.'_ The incarnation's amused smirk quickly faded; sarcasm lost most of its entertainment value without an audience.

Inuyasha sat on the grass, eyes closed and face upturned. The sun-soaked meadow was arguably more pleasant than Naraku's miasma-swamped hidey-holes, so Byakuya resignedly followed the hanyou's lead and made himself comfortable in the shade of a nearby tree. And… he watched. Those were his orders. _Ah, the life of a minion._ Obedience was the price of his frustratingly limited existence.

Byakuya relaxed, feeling vaguely rebellious for allowing the peaceful surroundings to distract him from harsher realities. _Naraku said to watch, but he didn't stipulate paying attention._ He let his thoughts wander until he realized with a jolt that half-lidded eyes were trained on him. _Oho! Not so oblivious, after all? _Byakuya tensed, but Inuyasha didn't leap to his feet, hurling insults and swinging his sword. Instead, indolent amber eyes slid shut with anticlimactic ease. _Idiot. _

Left to his own devices, Byakuya searched his capacious sleeves and withdrew a square of paper. Nimble fingers made short work of it, and he released an origami butterfly into the air. As it flitted from flower to flower, the youkai created more, turning each loose in its turn until Inuyasha was surrounded by them. _He's completely at my mercy… it's a shame he doesn't realize._ With great care, Byakuya sent one of the little creatures sailing towards the hanyou, focusing so it landed on the tip of one of Inuyasha's ears.

"You got somethin' to say?" the hanyou gruffly demanded. Byakuya's brows lifted, too astonished to reply. Inuyasha calmly added, "Just so you know… if you try to get past me, I'll kill you."

Byakuya let his illusion dissipate. "I don't feel like fighting today," he announced haughtily.

Inuyasha snorted. "What are you _doing_ here, Byakuya?"

Naraku's incarnation eyed the hanyou warily, prepared to beat a hasty retreat if the hanyou reached for his sword. "Just following orders," he replied sweetly.

"You're under orders to make butterflies?" Inuyasha sarcastically countered.

"No," Byakuya said, releasing yet another faux insect to join the rabble. "I'm just keeping watch."

"That makes two of us, then." Inuyasha scowled and chased away the butterfly on his ear with a muttered, "Keh."

The pieces suddenly slid into place, and Byakuya realized what had happened. _He __did__ sense me—probably from the start._ Inuyasha might be lounging in a meadow, but he'd casually placed himself between the village he called home and his enemy. _He led me here... drawing me away from his friends. He's protecting them._

With the lines drawn and the standoff acknowledged, Inuyasha returned to drowsing, and Byakuya selected another sheet of paper. After several minutes, the hanyou snorted in private amusement. Catching Byakuya's inquisitive look, he nodded to the butterflies and their antics. "At least these are an improvement on those fucking hell wasps; their buzzing puts my teeth on edge."

"I could make a wasp next," Byakuya offered, enjoying the lip curl he received in reply.

"Say…" Inuyasha said after a lengthy pause. "Can you do a grasshopper?"

Byakuya thoughtfully returned the hanyou's expectant gaze. _How droll…._ For a moment, the incarnation wondered if taking orders from this hanyou conflicted with his orders from the other, but in the end, he decided to indulge Inuyasha's whim… and his own. He nodded his acquiescence and extracted a new sheet of paper. _Naraku be damned. At least this way, I won't be bored._

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**End Note:** This oneshot was written for the Live Journal community iyfic(underscore)contest and their prompt for Week 179—Love the Villain. For those of you unfamiliar with the later chapters of the manga, Byakuya is the last of Naraku's incarnations. He seems to have an affinity for paper, and his skill with illusions earns him the moniker which is variously translated, 'Byakuya of the Mirage' and 'Byakuya of Illusionary Dreams'. 649 words.


	28. In Padua

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this drabble in three acts... especially for the one who's most dangerous when he's smiling. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess. A curtsey is dropped to Sir William Shakespeare for the loan of one of his comedic plots.

This drabble was originally posted to Live Journal on September 12, 2009.

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**In Padua**

**I.**

Miroku of Pisa was a man given to love affairs, so Sesshoumaru only half-listened to the man's enthusiastic report of the unrivaled sweetness of Lord Minola's younger daughter. When his lovelorn ramblings finally reached an end, Miroku prodded, "What say you?"

"The Lord of Padua's daughters are no concern of mine," the youkai declared with a dismissive flick of his claws.

"Hear me out!" protested Miroku. "Her father has sworn that none shall woo the younger until the elder is wed. He offers a generous dowry to any who would take her off his hands."

"Then wed the elder," shrugged Sesshoumaru.

"My good friend, wouldn't it be a finer thing for _you_ to take her on?"

Golden eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"It is said that Kagome is tempestuous and untamed. The conquest of such a woman is not for the weak of will or faint of heart." With a coy glance, he added, "Mayhap she is too much, even for you?"

"Hnn."

**II. **

The hearsay regarding Kagome didn't do her justice. She was uncommonly lovely, undeniably headstrong, and every inch the indomitable shrew. In spite of himself, Sesshoumaru's interest was piqued. _Good breeding, a pleasing figure, and a fire in her eyes—once gentled, that passion will burn long and slow. I would welcome such heat in my bed. _Approaching the maiden, he deigned to speak. "Come, come, you wasp. You are too angry."

"If I be waspish, best beware my sting!" she tartly replied.

Sesshoumaru smiled. Within a day, the dowry was set; within a week, the bride was wed. Kagome rebelled with a will, and he contended with equal vigor. At every turn, he confronted her, confounded her, and courted her in his own contrary way. Choosing a moment of particularly splendid vitriol, he bent low to murmur, "I find you passing gentle." To his satisfaction, roses bloomed upon her fair cheeks. _I __will__ be master of what is mine own. _

**III.**

Persistence was on Sesshoumaru's side. "Shall I be your sun?" he bid his wife.

"'Tis a _moon_ that marks your brow," she primly argued.

"And if I say 'tis the sun?" he whispered against her lips.

Lashes lowered. "S-so be it," she murmured.

"You would lie?" he inquired, feigning surprise. "For all can see 'tis the moon."

Kagome blushed. "I would agree to _anything_ you wish, husband."

"There's a wench!" he rumbled approvingly. "Come and kiss me, Kagome."

* * *

**End Note: **This drabble was written for the Live Journal community dokuga(underscore)contest and their Weekly Perfection prompt for Week #52—Tart. A handful of quotes were taken or adapted from William Shakespeare's _The Taming of the Shrew_... of which this is either a crossover or a parody. The contest version was brutally slashed to 200 words, but this is the uncut edition, which stands at exactly 400 words.


	29. The Prince and the Pauper

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this moment of compare and contrast... especially for the one who would have made his father proud. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

This drabble was originally posted to Live Journal on February 18, 2010.

* * *

**The Prince and the Pauper**

Once there was a prince with silver hair and golden eyes. The magnificent pelt that rode atop his shoulder gave testament to the strength of his lineage, and the crescent moon upon his brow lifted him above his peers, marking his nobility. Clad in regal silks, he roamed his lands with his father's fang riding at his hip. Strong and stubborn, proud and free—the son of the legendary Dog General trod the path of demon conquest, crushing opponents under the heel of his boot as he made a name for himself.

Once there was a pauper with silver hair and golden eyes. The peaked ears that rode atop his head gave testament to the scandal of his lineage, and the new moon upon the horizon brought him low, robbing him of his inheritance. Clad in hand-me-downs, he roamed the land with his father's fang riding at his hip. Strong and stubborn, proud and free—the son of the legendary Dog General lingered on the fringes of human society, running barefoot through the forest that bore his name.

* * *

**End Note: **This drabble was written for the Live Journal community **iyissekiwa** and their prompt for Contest #95—Shoe. 176 words.


	30. Truce

**Disclaimer: **I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this speculative foray into back story... especially for the new daddy. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

A version of this drabble was originally posted to Live Journal on **Father's Day**, June 20, 2010.

* * *

**Truce**

"M-milord!" stammered a young demoness, nearly dropping the basin of steaming water she carried.

Another of his mate's serving girls rushed forward, wringing her hands together. "It's too soon, milord. You should wait..."

The Inu-no-Taishou brushed past them, moving towards the curtain-draped sanctuary; the scent of his lady's distress called out to him, and he _would_ answer. The wizened midwife didn't comment upon his intrusion, but warily watched him cross to his mate's side. Making himself comfortable, he quirked a brow at the elderly inu-youkai, daring her to question his right to be there. She merely rolled her eyes and proceeded to ignore him.

Content with this reaction, he turned his attention to his mate. "You came," she remarked, valiantly hiding her agitation behind an icy reserve.

"I did."

Closing her eyes, she murmured, "You are superfluous."

"I recall being _integral_," he countered smugly.

She _tsk_-ed and slipped her hand into his.

o-o-o

Later, he somewhat regretted letting her lay hold of him, for she employed her claws nearly as often as her sharp tongue. "I should wrest this babe from my body with my claws," she snarled. "The pain could not be greater!"

He huffed and countered, "As much as I want an heir, it will _not_ be at the cost of my mate."

"Wretch."

"Bear it a little longer," he soothed.

"Brute."

"If that's what you require."

"Idiot," she muttered in gentler tones.

The two maids exchanged scandalized glances over her treatment of their lord, but he relished every barb. If he'd wanted meek and mild, that's what he would have, but he never did things the easy way. Her contrariness suited his nature, for in their ever-evolving interplay, he found the pleasure of unending conquest.

o-o-o

Finally, they called a truce over the top of a downy silver head. Pale yellow eyes glowed in triumph, and bronze-gold eyes shone with pride upon his worn out mate and his firstborn son.

* * *

**End Note: **This drabble was written for the Live Journal community **iyissekiwa** and their prompt for Contest #104—Worn. I had to prune my contest entry to 250, but this one stands at 321 words.


	31. Clutter: Mangled

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this bit of fun... especially for the one who goes to great lengths to right a terrible wrong. A nod of recognition is bent towards Rumiko Takahashi for her creative prowess.

**Author's Note:** These events occur somewhere midway through _Clutter_. Links to that tale can be found on my profile. Clutter's Summary: AU. Mrs. Higurashi decides to help her daughter put her life together; enter Sesshoumaru, professional organizer extraordinaire. Kagome resents having a perfect stranger rummaging through her messes, but he's bound and determined to show her the folly of her easy-going ways. A romantic comedy told in 100-word snippets. Sesshoumaru x Kagome. Complete in 200 chapters.

* * *

**Mangled**

More often than not, Sesshoumaru Saiga regretted signing his dignity away on the dotted line of his contract with Kagome Higurashi's mother. Mostly on Mondays. As he let himself into her silent apartment, the taiyoukai's sensitive nose twitched and wrinkled at odoriferous funk emanating from her kitchen_. _With a longsuffering sigh, he tied back the sleeves of his drab kimono and entered the fray.

As he'd come to expect, the area around the sink and windowsill were spotless. This was _not_ as per his instructions. No, no... she liked for Speckles to be "comfy." The orchid seemed healthy enough, and he dubiously addressed the thriving plant. "Where did she stash them this time? Oven? Cupboard? Coat closet?"

To his relief, it didn't appear that his client had tried one of her more creative hiding places for the weekend's accumulation of unwashed , the kitchen table played host to a teetering collection cups, plates, and bowls that vaguely resembled a castle. On closer inspection, he discovered that a thick layer of some syrupy substance helped keep the construct together. Wilted lettuce leaf flags, cast-off pizza crusts, and a neat row of browned apple cores were clearly meant as decoration. _I shall have to inform her that I don't give points for presentation._ Suppressing a shudder of disgust, he set to work.

"If this continues, I shall be forced to come in on weekends," he notified Speckles as he sniffed at a take-out carton that had been left on the counter. Assured that the contents were no longer safe for human consumption, he added them to the sink with a firm shake and a squelching glop. Tossing in the crusts and cores, he turned on the water and flipped the switch for the garbage disposal.

Moments later, he groaned, for the grinding gears whined in protest as the sink backed up. Drumming his claws on the countertop, he snidely inquired, "What shall we find today? Fish bones? Silk stockings? Yesterday's mail?"

Growling softly under his breath, Sesshoumaru located a pair of long-handled tongs and hunted for the culprit. Minutes later, he successfully wrested the blockage from the drain and scowled at the mangled mass suspended between his thumb and forefinger. "Hnn." Pink innards spilled out from a matted fuzz of iridescent fabric, and there was something terribly familiar about the sodden nuisance. With a start, he realized why. "I killed Squishy."

* * *

As seemed to happen regularly whenever it came to dealing with Kagome, Sesshoumaru's balance was tipped off kilter. He grasped the ruined dish-scrubber in a tight fist and rued the day. Squishy represented his first real step forward in gaining both Kagome's trust and cooperation. If she found out he'd caused her little friend's demise, it could undo everything. Convinced there was only one thing to do, he destroyed the evidence.

Luminous green poison hissed and bubbled, filling the kitchen with a slightly sweet scent as it did its devastating work. Naturally, that was the very moment when a key turned in the apartment door, and Kagome's cheerful voice called, "I'm home!"

With lightning quick reflexes, the taiyoukai slipped the ties from around his shoulders and hid his hands within his full sleeves. Leaning against the counter in what he hoped was a casual manner, Sesshoumaru calmly answered, "Welcome back."

The young woman poked her head into the room and asked, "Are you mad?"

"Do I seem so?"

"Nooo," she admitted, her eyes skimming a kitchen that was only halfway restored to order. "But you might be. It looks like you started without me!"

"Hnn." Quirking a brow, he remarked, "Must I remind you that I am a professional organizer, not a maid."

With a huff, Kagome explained, "I _meant_ to take care of everything this morning, but I overslept!"

"Shocking."

"Don't be so grumpy," she pouted. "I rushed right back to help!"

"How gratifying," he drawled. "However, since I have already disassembled your weekend's craft project, I shall assign you a different task."

She flinched visibly. "Is it more numbers? I don't like numbers."

Eager to get her away from the scene of his crime, he took her elbow and steered her towards her bedroom and its attached bath. "Your grout is in need of attention, and I have just the tool for the job." Plucking a vivid pink toothbrush from amidst the clutter on the bathroom counter, he declared. "This."

"But _this_ is my toothbrush," Kagome retorted with a glare.

"It has seen better days," Sesshoumaru replied breezily. "You shall use it to combat mildew, and as a reward, I shall secure a new toothbrush."

"New?" she demanded skeptically. "Is it going to be some crazy, technological wonder that's super efficient... because I won't lie. I like plain-old bristles."

"Bristles," he assured, inclining his head.

"Fine," she grumbled. "I'll change and get started."

Sesshoumaru had nearly accomplished his escape when her voice carried back to him from the vicinity of her shower. "Make sure it's pink!"

_As if any other color would do?_

* * *

"Out of stock, out of stock, out of stock," Sesshoumaru muttered under his breath. He'd been in and out of half a dozen variety stores, and it was the same story everywhere. _Who knew smiling pink kitchen sponges might be so popular? _He was sorely tempted to call his retainer to say needed the matching scrubbie he'd purchased for Rin; however, he knew for a fact that Jaken had taken a liking to it. He'd named the wretched thing Frizzy.

Stalking through the door of a shop two neighborhoods over, Sesshoumaru strode confidently towards the housewares section. By now, he knew what to look for... or rather, where the empty space would be. He'd found kitchen sponges shaped like flowers, waffles, and even bananas... but the prototypical Squishy still eluded him.

This time, he whisked past twittering housewives to the proper aisle only to find the prize waiting for him. All that stood between him and success was a tiny old woman with a cane, which normally wouldn't have worried him; however, she seemed to have her tiny, bright eyes on Squishy II. More desperate than any demon should be over something pink and sparkly, he glided over and loomed ominously. _Standard procedure. Always works._ Except... it didn't. The granny frowned deeply at the posturing taiyoukai and stood her ground. "Excuse me," he murmured, reaching.

With an angry squawk, she thumped his foot with her walking stick, snatched the last pink scrubbie, then made her getaway by shuffling towards the checkout counter. He watched her go with fists clenched in frustration. _So close. _Still close enough, if he wanted to play rough.

"Excuse me, sir? Can I help you find something."

With a weary sigh, he turned to the round-faced shop assistant in a green smock, ready to explain his ridiculous quest yet again. Then, his gaze dropped to the carton in the middle-aged woman's hands, and he did a double-take. Reading and re-reading its label just to assure himself it wasn't a mirage, he placed his hand atop the box. "This is _precisely_ what I need."

"Give me a moment, and I'll open..."

"Not necessary," he crisply enunciated. "I will take the whole lot."

She glanced between him and the box and warned, "There are twenty."

"Excellent," he rumbled, brimming with satisfaction.

She blushed and stammered, "W-will there be anything else?"

"A toothbrush," he decreed, for he was a demon of his word.

* * *

When Sesshoumaru returned to Kagome's apartment, the sharp smell of cleaning products welcomed him. _Much better. _Gliding silently into the kitchen, he withdrew Squishy's replacement from his sleeve and set it beside the sink. He favored Speckles with a warning look, saying, "This never happened." Then, he went to check on his client's progress.

Leaning in the bathroom door, he took a few moments to make sense of her attire. Kagome wore saggy, baggy grey sweats that had seen better days and a bubblegum pink halter top with several rows of ruffles decorating its hem. The two articles of clothing were entirely unsuited to each other, yet managed to suit the frustrating woman perfectly. "I have returned," he announced importantly.

Peeking over her shoulder, she greeted him with a scowl. "I _hate_ grout."

"The grout is not at fault for its current state," he smoothly countered. "However, I do not think the mildew will survive. Let's try a different occupation."

"Fine by me," she hastily agreed. "What's next?"

"Dishes," he replied. "But first... your reward."

When he produced the promised toothbrush, she practically glowed with happiness. "Oooh, it's so pretty! Even the bristles are pink!" she enthused. Giving his arm a pat, Kagome praised, "Not bad for an amateur!"

"Wash or dry?" he inquired blandly.

She smiled hopefully and wheedled, "You'll help me?"

"Hnn."

"Then Squishy and I will wash, and you can dry."

In the kitchen, Sesshoumaru insisted on scouring the sink before allowing her to wash the dishes. She mostly ignored his lecture on bacteria, but then, he placed Squishy II in her hand and said, "You may proceed."

"_Finally_," she muttered.

To his delight, she didn't notice the exchange, and as she swished and scrubbed, rinsed and rambled, he stood by with a faintly smug smirk on his face. The day was saved, the future was rosy, and he was prepared for any eventuality... nineteen times over. Confident that all was right with his world, he gleefully went back to playing havoc with hers. "You missed a spot."

* * *

**End Note: **This oneshot was written for the Live Journal community dokuga(underscore)contest and their prompt for Contest #80—Indignity. 1,580 words. Originally posted on October 7, 2011.


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